A Winter's Song
by amgglekim
Summary: Renesmee finds Bella's old journals. What will she find in the pages from when Edward was gone? Based on Wintersong by Sarah McLaughlin


Its been forever, I know. Check my profile for details on my hiatus and an update on when to expect the next chapter of MoC! I've missed writing so very much!

This story is based on Wintersong by Sarah McLaughlin. I HIGHLY recommend listening to it, it is simply beautiful.

I can lay claim to a pair of leather gloves, a Sarah McLaughlin CD (several in fact) and the love of a man named Eddie. All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer and the lyrics for Wintersong belong to Sarah Mclaughlin and her co-writers. I just felt they worked well together.

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**Renesmee's POV**

I had found an old box of journals that had belonged to my mother from years ago and she just laughed when I asked if I could read them, telling me that I already knew all her stories, but that didn't matter to me though. Her journals were like a calendar, each day getting one entire page, each book marked by year and it felt as if I had found a window into her soul, and I wanted to share those moments from her thoughts. The first book was from the year before she had even decided to move back to Forks to live with Grandpa Charlie, before she had met my father.

I was curled in front of the fireplace in our newest home, the scent of the evergreen in the window giving comfort as I started the next year's journal, the one I knew started just as she moved to Forks and I could feel myself brace against the coming heart ache. Years ago already I had heard the stories from everyone about those months that my parents were apart. Jake, Aunt Alice, Uncle Emmett… everyone had given me a piece of the puzzle.

As I got to the page from her birthday, there was nothing, it was blank, and my heart skipped a beat. The next page was full of nothing but words of forgiveness for Jasper and words of self-recrimination. That she felt the events from the previous day were her own fault was apparent, she should have taken more care she said… the worry that something was drastically wrong dripped from the page yet nothing could have prepared me for the heartache I felt as I turned page after page of the journal to find nothing. Not a single entry. No words describing her heartache. Not that anything could have described the despair I felt for her as I turned pages that had no ink marking them, just welts in the paper that I instinctively knew were from her dried tears.

I gasped as I found one entry in the middle of those empty pages. I read the page aloud to myself, the tears welling in my eyes.

**December 25**

_It snowed again. Everything seems so still, like I imagine it would be in Alaska. The lake frozen over, the trees white with snow…_

_You said I would never see you again, but every where I go there are reminders of you. The sun was out this morning, its rays glittering on the snow the same way you glittered in the meadow so long ago when you told me that I was your life now._

_It's late; of course the morning is in no hurry either. I search for comfort but I know that sleep won't set me free. I lay here awake, trying to remember how your body felt beside me._

_The silence is much too hard to handle, it cuts deep like a knife, making the pain just that much worse. Once, long ago, the night was my solace; I had you. Now, it seems as if the night is too long, offering pain where there had been comfort._

_A sense of joy fills the air as I dream and stare at the tree. Somehow, it is as if I can see you; in the snow on Christmas morning. Love and happiness surround you... Emmett trying to plan a sneak snow ball attack while Alice fixes that one ornament that isn't quite right on the tree as Carlisle and Esme steal a moment under the mistletoe. You throw your arms up to the sky, and how I wish I was the one that put that smile upon your beautiful face._

_Oh how I miss you now… my love. Merry Christmas._

I felt my mothers presence, more than heard her, the venom glistening in her eyes as I followed her gaze to where she looked toward where my father leaned in the doorway of the room. It was a mere second before he was at her side wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly; the love and devotion he felt for her shining in his eyes.

"Merry Christmas my love" she replied before pressing her lips to his where they stood, beneath the mistletoe.

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